Raising Against the Willow Rocks

Rocks are the opposite of trees, yeah? I mean, I've NEVER seen a rock and a tree hang out... so that makes it like water and fire.

You won't ever see fire in water. Likewise, you won't ever see a rock IN a tree, TOTAL OPPOSITES.

...

So, quick clarification since that ASSHOLE mute can't explain things for shit. Moth heard some cops talking about some coordinated hunt for a 'WOLF' in the woods. He came home, FINALLY FUCKING UNTIED ME, and we followed the the cop people and their pet proxies into the woods... because that wasn't a SHIT idea or anything.

BAM! We find out that the cops are hunting a Feralling. BAM! We find out they are using a less feral feralling to hunt it. BAM! We find out they are going to kill the less feral feralling in fear that it will live up to its name sake and, you know, GO FERAL.

BBBBAAAAAMMMM. We let them kill the feral feralling and steal the unferal feralling before they can kill him! WE'RE FUCKING HEROES AND SHIT.

That said... I don't think I trust this thing. I mean I know I was the one who invited it to follow us and it would make a great ally and stuff being fast and strong and shit, but hes twitchy as fuck and the way he glares at and eyes me... the last person who looked at me like that tried to kill me.

I should just kill him NOW and save myself the trouble.

...

"Okay, what the FUCK is your problem?!"

"Can you... please stop moving around so much. The constant movement and your bright red hair is fucking with me."

"Fuck you! YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH MY HAIR?"

"No but your constant darting around is fucking with my prey drive and the eye catching color of your hair..." said the Feralling reaching out his clawed hand toward me before clenching it into a misshaped fist,  "...makes me want to pounce. So please... sit still."

"..."

And so we've taken to tying his hands behind his back and BLINDFOLDING him so he won't ATTACK me.

He seemed a little upset about it but didn't fight us when we did it.

...

... Hehehe. He said he LIKES my hair~!

Picasso Entry End.

Falling Through the Willow Trees

"...Whispering, whispering, whispering, whispering..."

"This guys amazing! I mean... hard to look at but god is he fast. And that claw is cool shit!"

"Yeah... hes something."

"Whats this for? This guns kind of crap for this sort of hunt isn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess it is. Hank... when this is over I need you to put the mutt down."

"Wh-What?! No! Hes helping us."

"Hes one of them. A freak. Another monster whose existence threatens to safety of our loved ones!"

"H-Hes different."

"Is he? You know how things like this beast we're hunting in come about? Because they get clawed and they change like he is. Sure hes our friend now, but its taking over. Do you really want him around when he finally loses it and goes Feral?"

"He isn't gonna go Fe-"

"Oh yes he is. Hes strong. I'll give him that. And he may fight it for a long time, but hes gonna lose it and start killing people. Then that blood will be on your hands! TAKE the god damn gun and DO what needs to be done."

"I..."

"Be a fucking man."

"..."

"...Suddenly hearing, when I want to scream..."

Bullets rip through the sky... the hunters have lit flares... travel in wide facings to make their numbers look big...

Mice standing standing tall to be scary...

Even mice can kill... in numbers...

                     Swaszks

                                                    Skit

                                                                        sleesh

                                                                                              skuuuph

                                                                                                                       scrooop

It cuts through the branches in leaps and bounds... its scared... too many... needs to pick them off... find the smaller groups...

stragglers... pick them off... piece by piece....

Raining leaves... everywhere it goes.

"...Who will care for the falling leaves?"

Small group... a straggler... a loner cut way from the numbers... a single flare held high above traitors head...

Pick it off... one less rat in the bunch...

"Come get me you son of a bitch!"

Drops...

...leaps...

...It's so fast.

Traitor tries puts out a hand to protect himself... the beast puts out a claw... scissors will beat paper...

"...Keep on falling down, keep on falling down..."

Falling freak beats scissors... apparently.

                                                                                                                              Slit

                                                                                                 graaah

                                                                  gra-gra

                                    urraff

The true hunter, the freak, drops down hard on it. Rends it

His hand...  he has one nasty claw hand...

A hollowed eye and a sharp protruding fang.

Nasty claw marks on his scalp where hair don't grow.

Resembles a man...
looks and fights like a Feral-ling...

Rending it over and over...

SQUAAAAAAUUUURRRRRRRRRR... cuuf.... cuuf cufff

Death cry... it wheezes for air...

            He watches it... as it slowly... desperately... tries to crawl away.

     It has to run... it'll die if it doesn't get away.

But its lost so much blood.

The traitor raises his gun... points it at the back of the beats skull.

                                 "No..."

                                                                                  The freak steps in the way...    

 goes back to watching the beast die.

"...Tender, cool breeze, keeps me where I am..."

"Leave it to suffer."

So very... Mad.  

The butt of the gun comes down hard on his shoulder.

Heavy kick on the back of the shin.            

The freak is forced to fall to a knee.

"What the hell are you doing..."

"You're dangerous. You're one of them... 

...I have to do this... its for the best."

"..."

"..."

"What the fuck are you waiting for you fucking coward?!"

"...Autumn shades, calm my shaking hands..."

Deep breath... a moment of focus. Fret over future regrets...

Steels his nerves.

"Good bye buddy..."

"...Oh, please just cut me down, leave me in my dreams..."

"JUST FUCKING DO IT ALREADY!"

"...Who would care for the fallen?..."

Sudden thud from a rock as it bounces off a tree...

"What?"

Turned heads. 

She giggles.

A sudden drop kick.

Plants square into his hip.

He winces... grabs his side.

Desperately grabs for a radio.

"Wh-What the fuck..."

I step out from my hiding spot as he grabs his radio. 

Smash it with the butt of my spear.

"Wh-Who-"

Bring the spear's butt hard on his forehead.

"... And just who the fuck are you two."

"...Who will care for the fallen?..."

"Who? US?! Based on that asshole, WE'RE  YOUR NEW BEST FRIENDS!"

"Hank, what the fuck is taking so long over there. Finish it and lets go!"

"FUCK... hey fugly face, you coming with us OR NOT?!"

"...Whispering, whispering, whispering, whispering, as I fall through the willow trees..."

"Hank?!"

"Oooohhh... my head..."

"Y-Yeah... Wait up!"

------------------------------

What the fuck is THIS SHIT?! This is like the... WORST, explanation for anything EVER.

How about, we stole feral-ling?! JUST FUCKING SAY THINGS YOU STUPID FUCKING MUTE.

And what is THIS SHIT.

What kind of PORTENTOUS asshole does...

THIS?!

Did you take a lesson from Sloth on how to be CRYPTIC AS FUCK before we left?

Unfucking believable.

[Redacted.]

----------------------------------

She goes on like that for a while... so I deleted most of it.

We stole their mutated feral-ling because they were going to kill it. 

Happy?

Moth out.